


The Most Adorable Army The World Has Ever Known

by jammeke



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, Kid!Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-03-20
Updated: 2012-03-20
Packaged: 2017-11-02 06:27:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jammeke/pseuds/jammeke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young Merlin, Gwaine, Lancelot, Elyan, Leon and Percival vie for Teacher Arthur's attention. Here be knights, apples, pigtail-pulling, dragons and an exasperated teacher who is not fond of his children in the slightest, thank you very much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Apples And Dragons

**Author's Note:**

> These ficlets will be posted in no particular order. They take place in the same universe and anything you learn will still apply in other chapters, but since the order is not chronological, some events may not yet have happened in future chapters.

"Mr Pendragon, Mr Pendragon!"

Arthur looked up from his newspaper. "Hmm?"

The boys' cheeks were flushed, their clothes were hopelessly rumpled and their hair was in disarray already. A quick glance at the clock proved school didn't start for another three minutes. They were early for once, had probably arrived some time ago to play together before they were confined to their tables for the better part of the morning. Unfortunately, these children were incapable of playing peacefully like most (undoubtedly better raised) children Arthur knew, he'd learned that the hard way on his first day at Camelot School.

"Merlin was pulling my pigtails!"

Arthur stared at Gwaine, took in his hair and raised his right eyebrow in a near-perfect impression of the Headmaster if he did say so himself. It wasn't that Gwaine's hair wasn't long enough for pigtails; he could probably make them to his heart's content should he want to. But he didn't wear any, so how could he accuse his classmate of pulling on them?

Leon coughed and took a small step forward. "Figuratively speaking, of course" he said wisely, looking up at Arthur with a solemn expression on his face. Arthur frowned down at him.

"Figuratively speaking?" he repeated. Leon was five years old, maybe six. Just how did the boy's mother address her children? Suddenly remembering his own childhood, Arthur winced and shoved all thoughts of demanding parents from his mind. "That's not very nice of you, Merlin," he said sternly, focusing his attention on the sheepish looking little boy to Leon's right.

Merlin bit his lip. "Elyan said I could."

Sighing, Arthur laid down his newspaper on the desk in front of him. "You shouldn't encourage each other to tease others, and you shouldn't allow yourselves to be encouraged," he told the boys, smiling slightly when they all looked at him with wide eyes, taking in his every word.

"Thank you, Mr Pendragon," Gwaine said happily, before turning around and poking Merlin in the chest. "Told you so."

Merlin huffed a little. "He still likes me better than you."

"Does not."

"Does too."

"Does not."

"Enough." Arthur didn't even have to raise his voice. They were all looking at him again. "I'm not one for favoritism," he said seriously, looking at each of the boys in return, "but if you all don't get to your seats before the bell rings, I will favor all the children who _did_ go to their seats in time by allowing them to go outside during the break."

Percival frowned. "We're always allowed to go outside during the break."

Lancelot cleared his throat. "I think Mr Pendragon is trying to say that we're not allowed to join the others if we're late." He raised his chin. "Right?"

Arthur couldn't fight down the smile that appeared on his lips. "Right. Now, off to your seats, boys."

"Wait." Merlin opened his bag and pulled out an apple. "This is for you, Mr Pendragon."

Arthur stared at the red piece of fruit, trying and failing to come up with a proper reaction. "Shouldn't you eat that yourself, Merlin?" Merlin's expression fell and Arthur hastily spoke again. "I'm sure your mom didn't give you that apple to give it to your teacher."

Gwaine frowned. "Oi. He bought it himself. With his pocket money."

"Oh." And really, there was nothing Arthur could do but reach out and accept Merlin's offering after that offended, touching declaration. "Thank you, Merlin," he said sincerely. "I shall . . . treasure it."

"Always?" Merlin asked hopefully.

"Always," Arthur confirmed, glad for small mercies, like the fact that Morgana wasn't here to witness this. "You have twenty seconds left. Go on."

The boys ran off to their respective seats, knocking over various school bags in their haste to make it in time.

Arthur shook his head, placed his apple on his desk and stared at it for a moment, pointedly ignoring the strangely fond, tingling feeling that was spreading through his chest.

~*~

The next day, there were six apples on his desk, placed in a remarkable, round formation, each one shinier than the next.

_For Mister Arthur Pendragon_ it said on the note in the middle of the circle.

~*~

He didn't manage to keep them from calling him _King Arthur Pendragon_ behind his back and he certainly didn't succeed at getting them to stop charging at the dogs some of their classmates' parents brought with them when they came to pick up their children ("they're dragons and it is our duty to protect you!"), but he did get them to hand in their homework in time and they listened to him well enough most of the time, so Arthur gave up on smaller, less important things like overactive children making him crowns of paper during Handicraft and decided to focus on teaching them all he knew instead.

And if sometimes, after school, the boys wanted to hear all about the Legends of King Arthur and Arthur had some time to spare, well, then there was no reason why he shouldn't indulge their wish to learn more about British tales and legends, was there?

No, Arthur didn't think so either.


	2. Of Dreams And Griffins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young Merlin, Gwaine, Lancelot, Elyan, Leon and Percival vie for Teacher Arthur's attention. Here be knights, griffins, fathers, pointy hats and an exasperated teacher who is not fond of his children in the slightest, thank you very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These ficlets will be posted in no particular order. They take place in the same universe and anything you learn will still apply in other chapters, but since the order is not chronological, some events may not yet have happened in future chapters.

It was quiet in the classroom.

Those with practiced ears would undoubtedly be able to make out the sound of pencils on paper, and those with practiced eyes would roughly be able to tell what each child was drawing and which colors they were using, but those who didn't look too closely and didn't listen too attentively wouldn't be able to tell they were surrounded by a group of children, and a group of six-year olds at that.

His father had advised him not to pursue this career, had gone so far as to forbid it and order him to find a decent profession.

_"I'm telling you, Arthur, even those who show promise can not become what they're good at if they don't try hard enough. Those who don't even try . . . well, those . . ."_

_"What?"_

_" . . . end up as teachers. People who have no other options in life."_

Arthur could feel his fists clench into fists just thinking about his father's belittling words. Had the man ever stopped to consider that teaching was his son's dream? That he didn't _need_ other options in life?

"Mr Pendragon?"

Arthur was startled out of his thoughts by a small voice to his right, one he immediately recognized as Percival's. He turned his head and looked down at the boy. "Yes, Percival?"

Percival bit his lip. He was naturally shy and wasn't known for his way with words, but he was a friendly, hard-working boy and he stood up for those who needed his help – in a fight, generally, though his very presence was enough to send people, children and adults alike, packing most of the time.

"I don't . . . I don't quite know . . ."

"Percival," Arthur interrupted the boy's stuttering, his voice imploring.

Percival swallowed. "I was going to draw you something, Mr Pendragon," he said quickly, as if getting the words out fast would mean he didn't have to say them at all, "but I don't know how . . ."

In the back of the classroom, Leon suddenly rose from his seat, a concerned expression on his face. "Percy, we practiced this yesterday."

"I know, I just . . ."

Merlin got to his feet as well. "We can help."

"No," Arthur said curtly, before the boys got the chance to cross the room, "you can not, not unless I ask you to."

Leon and Merlin looked crestfallen and Arthur sighed, aware of the twenty-seven pairs of eyes that were now on him. "Helping others is admirable, certainly, but you're not allowed to get out of your seat during class unless you have a question. And even then, raising your finger would be a better means to gain my attention." That last sentence was directed at Percival.

Percival blushed.

"But what if–"

"Merlin, what did I just tell you?"

Merlin's hand immediately shot up into the air. "Mr Pendragon, what if–"

"Raising your hand is not enough, Merlin, you have to wait your turn."

Gwaine furrowed his brow. "When–"

"You speak only when I tell you to speak," Arthur explained, doing his best to sound patient. "We've been over this."

"Yes, but–"

"Merlin, what did you want to say," Arthur said, cutting straight through Elyan's comment.

"I was going to say," Merlin said, unperturbed, "that people mustn't always listen in. Percy is ashamed of his question. And if you make him ask in front of everyone," he waved his hand around as if to indicate the meaning of everyone, "he's going to blush. Or not talk at all."

Arthur's gaze immediately snapped back to Percival, who held on to his drawing for dear life, hugging it tightly it to his chest.

"All right, everyone, back to your drawings," he said loudly, waiting until he was certain his children were looking down at their desk and at least pretending not to strain their ears to hear what he and Percival were talking about before addressing Percival again. "What did you want to ask me?"

Percival took a deep breath, then stared up into Arthur's eyes. "How do you spell _"for Mr Arthur Pendragon"?"_

~*~

  
Most drawings featured flowers and princesses without noses, their faces decorated with two dots and a narrow, quivery line. Then there were the drawings of batman and superman, a thin, black stroke at the top of each sheet symbolizing the evening sky. Some children had drawn cats and dogs, the only difference between the two creatures being their size and color; dogs were big and brown, cats were small and black. There must be an unwritten rule about that somewhere; Arthur had yet to find it, but all his children seemed to have heard of it.

Mordred had drawn a big, black raven with eyes as black as its feathers. Arthur stared at it for a few seconds before hurriedly turning the drawing over.

He found six more drawings on the corner of his desk, strikingly similar in some ways (the artists had all drawn knights, a castle and what appeared to be a cross between a eagle and a lion) and noticeably different in others (one of the knights wore blue robes and a pointy hat in one drawing), but one thing they all had in common was a tiny blond figure with a crown on his head in the middle of the group, waving his sword around and poking at the clawed creature in the sky. With the exception of the odd figure in blue, all the knights wore swishy red capes.

Arthur stared at the drawings, his lips curving into a small smile.

At least they didn't draw him any dragons this time. They must be getting tired of drawing the same creature over and over again, though Arthur vaguely recalled Elyan telling him a few days ago that Merlin had set Kilgharrah free and that Kilgharrah no longer roamed just the realm but Africa and Asia as well these days, which . . . had puzzled Arthur at the time, but things were rapidly becoming clearer.

Another thing the drawings had in common were the words "for Mr Arthur Pendragon" at the bottom of each sheet. In one drawing, the word King had been crossed out and replaced with Mr at some point. Arthur stared at the words and tried to figure out who had written them. It could be Leon, he was strangely insistent about calling Arthur his King, but the handwriting looked more like Merlin's and . . .

. . . it really didn't matter, did it?

With a sigh, Arthur rearranged the drawings into a pile and leaned back in his chair. Most drawings would be going home with their respective makers tomorrow, but the ones with the knights were apparently his to keep, meaning he was going to have to think of something to do with them. Throwing them away would be heartless, and to be honest, Arthur didn't feel like parting with the children's art just yet.

There was something about the drawings that fascinated him.

As he carefully put the small pile into his suitcase, Arthur made up his mind. There was a bare wall in his office; one wall Morgana hadn't had a go at yet – much as he appreciated her sense of style, he didn't exactly approve of her taste in art, though that didn't seem to stop her from hanging his house with it. He'd frame the drawings and get back to analyzing them if he still felt the need in a couple of weeks.

Thinking back on the strange figure in blue and the blond figure in the middle of each sheet that looked suspiciously like him, Arthur had a nagging feeling he would.


	3. Of Frogs And Mortal Enemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young Merlin, Gwaine, Lancelot, Elyan, Leon and Percival vie for Teacher Arthur's attention. Here be knights, frogs, wyverns, mortal enemies and an exasperated teacher who is not fond of his children in the slightest, thank you very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These ficlets will be posted in no particular order. They take place in the same universe and anything you learn will still apply in other chapters, but since the order is not chronological, some events may not yet have happened in future chapters.

Mordred was staring at him again.

Arthur shifted in his seat, not quite able to put his finger on what it was about the boy’s gaze that unsettled him so. Was it the intensity in his eyes? The bright blue color of them; the kind of blue that, by law of nature, should not be able to exist? Or was it his unwavering attention, something that, logically, a teacher should value and not be distrustful of?

Whatever it was, Arthur didn’t like the boy, and he was annoyed with himself for his unprofessional thoughts. He was a teacher; it wasn’t his job to compare his children to each other and decide which ones he liked best, subconsciously or not. He ought to be above that sort of childish behavior, used to disapprove of it when he recognized it in his colleagues.

Was he as big a hypocrite as he believed his father to be?

“Valiant won’t let me into the doll corner, Mr Pendragon!” an indignant voice cried from across the room.

Snapping his head to the side, Arthur found himself staring at the doll corner, or, more accurately, the children in front of it. “Elena?” He dropped his pen and pushed away his papers. 

“I threatened to sit on him if he wouldn’t let me past, but he’s too big for me,” Elena told him, her face red with exhaustion and frustration.

Arthur got out of his chair and quickly walked over to the arguing couple, silently berating himself for not paying more attention to his children, though he doubted he would have heard them if he had. It was always a bit noisy in the room when the children got to choose what they wanted to do. The doll corner, the sand pit and the block play table were extremely popular, though the computers had been gaining in popularity lately. Most children understood more about the devices than Arthur did himself.

Valiant was scowling at Elena and throwing nervous looks in Arthur’s direction that he hurriedly tried to hide by scowling even deeper.

“Valiant, do you want to explain to me what’s going on?” Arthur asked, sinking through his knees so he could look the sullen boy in the eye. 

Valiant shifted. “Girls are no fun. They cry and they giggle. And they’re afraid of snakes,” he added, shuddering as if the very thought of disliking snakes disgusted him.

“Oi,” Elyan said indignantly, wandering over to where they were standing, or sitting in Arthur’s case, a red splotch of paint on his cheek. “My sister is a girl. And she’s not afraid of anything.”

“Neither am I,” Elena insisted before Arthur could interfere. He knew she spoke the truth, for whenever a spider was located inside the classroom, it wasn’t Arthur or the bravest boys most girls went to, but Elena.

He cleared his throat. “Valiant, I know you are more than capable of playing nicely with your classmates. If you let Elena into the doll corner and apologize for being rude, I’m willing to let this incident slip through my fingers.”

Valiant stuck out his chin. “I’m not playing with a girl.”

Arthur sighed. “Well then, Valiant, until you are ready to play alongside others, I want you to go back to your seat and think of a nice way to make it up to Elena.”

“But–”

“Now.”

Valiant’s shoulders slumped. He slowly walked back to his seat, sat down with more force than was necessary and threw several pencils to the floor when he flung his arms over the table to rest his head on top of them.

“Pick up your pencils, Valiant,” Arthur said calmly.

“No.”

“Why are you being so mean?” Merlin looked genuinely upset as he regarded Valiant, his little fingers clamped around his blocks.

“Merlin,” Arthur said warningly, knowing the extra attention would only make Valiant retreat further into himself.

Merlin turned his big, confused eyes on him. “Everyone _always_ wants to play with Elena,” he said with conviction. “She makes the best donkey noses. And she never wants to be the princess.”

Freya and Sophia nodded furiously. Considering the fact that there was only one crown in the Dress Up Chest, anyone who didn’t want to wear it was the other players’ favorite person in the world.

Arthur got to his feet. “Let’s consider the matter closed for now." He looked down at Valiant, who was still scowling at the ground. “Valiant, you will stay inside during the break so you and I can have a talk. Now, I’m going to ask you one more time to pick up your pencils.”

His tone left no room for arguments. With a huff, Valiant bent down to pick up his things. He unceremoniously threw them back onto his desk.

“Thank you.”

Arthur wasn’t above rewarding good behavior – the definition of ‘good’ depending on the child’s general behavior – but the knowledge that Valiant was more likely to be flustered by than grateful for the words made his insides ache. The boy probably never heard those words at home; he was raised to believe words didn’t achieve anything – fists did.

Now that there was a free spot in the doll corner, Gwaine hastily ran over and shot Elena a wide grin as he grabbed her hand. “I’m a ferryman and you’re a frog, okay?”

Elena’s smile was equally wide. “Okay.” And she dropped to her knees and quaked.

~*~

  
Leon was building a large tower at the blocks table. The tower appeared to be round, which was quite an achievement, considering the fact the blocks were oblong and square. Merlin was sitting next to him. He’d dropped his blocks and was now cutting small figures with pointy horns and scaly wings out of paper, his brow furrowed in concentration as he worked. The finished products were placed on the table beside Leon’s construction. 

Percival appeared out of nowhere with a pencil and started coloring the clippings grey.

“Aren’t dragons supposed to be green?” Sophia asked, eyes wide and curious.

Merlin rolled his eyes at her. “They’re wyverns, Sophia. There’s a big difference.”

~*~

  
Valiant wasn’t very forthcoming during his talk with Arthur, and Arthur suspected he didn’t quite know how to apologize, or how to feel sorry. It was difficult to think of a suitable punishment when Valiant simply shrugged and told him he didn’t understand girls, or humans at all, really. He was fonder of animals, would spend every day taking care of them and training them if it was up to him.

So Arthur made him a deal. He agreed to let Valiant take care of the school cat (the animal had wandered in one day and refused to leave, so the Headmaster had put a pillow and a feeding through in his office and left it at that) if the boy paid attention during classes and tried to be nice to his classmates from now on. Valiant lit up like a Christmas tree and promised Arthur he’d be good from now on.

Arthur allowed him to go outside for the remainder of the break.

~*~

  
According to Google, wyverns actually existed.

Arthur frowned at his screen, vaguely recalling having come across the word before. On Wikipedia, it said the wyvern was a frequent mascot of athletic teams, colleges and universities, particularly in the UK and the US.

That explained that, then.

The red eyes of the creatures unsettled him more than he cared to admit, and Arthur quickly clicked the page away, telling himself it was time to clean up the classroom and prepare his lessons for tomorrow.

It was a good thing wyverns didn’t actually exist in real life, he mused, as he sorted through the character cards. Arthur wasn’t sure he’d have the courage to stand up to the creatures if he ever encountered them.


	4. Of Ties And Tissues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young Merlin, Gwaine, Lancelot, Elyan, Leon and Percival vie for Teacher Arthur's attention. Here be knights, tissues, cats, missing fathers and an exasperated teacher who is not fond of his children in the slightest, thank you very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These ficlets will be posted in no particular order. They take place in the same universe and anything you learn will still apply in other chapters, but since the order is not chronological, some events may not yet have happened in future chapters.

Merlin's father was missing.

Hunith had called Arthur two days ago, telling him Merlin would be unable to come to school because they had family matters to attend to. Arthur wished her the best of luck and spent the rest of the day making clumsy mistakes and being stricter than usual (causing even Gwaine to keep his mouth shut), his pupil's welfare constantly at the back of his mind. The day after that, Hunith had called again, telling him Merlin's father had disappeared. He'd taken his most precious belongings with him, indicating he'd left of his own free will. Arthur had been too shocked to think of a proper response, but she still thanked him for his support and told him Merlin would be coming back to school tomorrow.

Tomorrow was today. And Merlin was sitting in his usual seat.

Arthur had gently squeezed Hunith's shoulder when she came by to drop off her son. He'd told her his thoughts were with her and Merlin, and she'd sent him a watery smile and asked him to look after her boy. Arthur hadn't even responded to that; he'd just nodded, hoping his eyes could convey that he always did so, regardless of family matters. She'd seemed to understand.

Gwaine was sitting next to Merlin. His usual seat was on the other side of the classroom, but Arthur had asked George and Gwaine to switch seats for the day. George had frowned at him in confusion for a moment before hurriedly getting to his feet to obey Arthur's _orders_ (as he often referred to Arthur's remarks), but Gwaine had taken the request in stride, barely pausing to look at Arthur as he marched over to Merlin and wrapped his arms around him, pulling his friend into a hug.

Merlin's other friends were shifting in their seats, their gazes locked on Merlin, and even the children who didn't know Merlin very well looked unsettled and concerned.

Arthur sat down behind his desk and surveyed his group. He couldn't start the day like this; no one seemed to be able to focus on Arthur's words – and Arthur himself was no exception. He'd have to have a talk with Merlin first, give the boy the chance to tell him what he wanted Arthur and his classmates to know.

"Leon, can you get the Headmaster for me?" he asked, and Leon reluctantly tore his gaze away from Merlin and got to his feet.

"What do I tell him, Mr Pendragon?"

Arthur rubbed his chin. "That I'm going to need him to take over my class for a couple of minutes."

Leon nodded and left the room.

~*~

  
Gaius was remarkably understanding of the situation. "I know Hunith," he cut Arthur off when Arthur opened his mouth to explain why he was going to have to step out for a moment, "take Merlin with you and go to my office."

Arthur thanked him, gently disentangled Merlin from Gwaine's embrace and told his class he'd be back in a few minutes. He could have sworn he saw Elyan bow his head at him as he passed, but that must have been his imagination.

~*~

  
There were probably rules against taking your pupils in your lap, but Merlin had launched himself at Arthur the moment he sat down, and Arthur didn't have the emotional strength to push the boy away. His little hands were fisted in Arthur's shirt and his face was pressed against his chest, his cheeks thoroughly wetting the red fabric.

Arthur gently stroked Merlin's back, waiting for the boy to speak up. When he didn't, Arthur quietly asked him if he wanted to talk about it.

Merlin hiccupped and trembled in Arthur's arms. "He said . . . he was in my room and I was sleeping but then I was awake and he said he was . . . proud of me. And then I slept again. And then he was gone. And mommy was crying. And . . . and he didn't come back. I cried for him, but he didn't come. He told me he'd come. He said he'd always . . . he promised . . . but now . . ."

That was as far as Merlin got. He buried his face even further in Arthur's chest and cried, small distressed sounds escaping his mouth.

Nimueh hopped down from her pillow and wandered over to where they were sitting, rubbing her head against Arthur's leg. Arthur squeezed Merlin's shoulder. "Look, Nimueh's here to make you feel better."

Merlin looked up, tears staining his cheeks, and stared at the cat for a moment before tentatively reaching down and stroking Nimueh's head. The cat purred and pressed her head into Merlin's questing fingers. The purring got noticeably louder whenever Merlin scratched a particularly sensitive spot behind her ears.

"Maybe he doesn't love me," Merlin said suddenly.

Arthur almost didn't hear him because his voice was so soft. When he realized what Merlin had said, he immediately tightened his hold on the boy. "Of course your father loves you, Merlin." He'd seen the way Balinor looked at his son, and there was no mistaking the soft look in the man's eyes. "I don't know why he left, but I do know that he loved you very, very much. Don't ever doubt that." He didn't dare tell Merlin Balinor would come back to him one day, because he wasn't sure the man would, and lying to kids was something that should never, ever be taken lightly, but Arthur was absolutely certain the man would come back if he could.

Merlin appeared to take comfort from his words, and Arthur smiled when the boy tilted his head back to look at him. "Do you want to tell your classmates what happened?"

Merlin bit his lip. "No."

Arthur nodded. "All right. That's all right, Merlin."

A small frown appeared on Merlin's face. "Everyone has a father." His cheeks were still wet and Arthur resisted the urge to brush away his tears. "But now I don't. That's weird. Does that make me weird?"

Arthur let out a small laugh. "No, Merlin, of course not."

"Will you be my father?"

Arthur swallowed, taken off guard, though he suspected even years of planning couldn't prepare a man for such a simple yet complicated question. "I . . . I don't think that would be a good idea, Merlin. For one, you already have a father."

"But–"

"And for another, parents are not allowed to teach their children." Arthur reached for the tissue box on Gaius's desk, keeping a tight hand on Merlin as he leaned forward. He carefully wiped the tears off Merlin's face and offered the kerchief to Merlin. "You want to see if you can throw it into the dustbin from here?"

Merlin nodded eagerly. He turned around in Arthur's lap and carefully took aim. The crumpled tissue sailed through the air and only missed the dustbin by twelve inches or so. Arthur vowed to clean it up later; Gaius wouldn't be pleased if he found out Arthur allowed his pupils to hurl used tissues through his office.

"But you will be my teacher?" Merlin turned around again to face Arthur.

Arthur ruffled his hair. "Of course."

"And you are not going to run away?"

Arthur solemnly met Merlin's searching gaze. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Not even when I'm being bad?"

"Merlin." Arthur reached out and placed his hand on Merlin's shoulder. There was something terrible wrong about Merlin's expression, his gaze bearing the weight of that of a child who takes on its parents' troubles. Arthur's heart ached for him. "You are not responsible for what your father did. You did nothing wrong. Merlin? Do you hear me?"

Merlin nodded slowly.

"Good." Arthur briefly hugged the boy, then carefully positioned his hands under his armpits and lowered him onto the ground. Nimueh immediately rubbed her head against his legs and Merlin sank through his knees to stroke her fur.

Arthur allowed Merlin a few minutes of playtime with the school cat before he told him they needed to be getting back to the others. He almost forgot to pick up the tissue, but Merlin remembered and threw it into the dustbin for him.

Merlin wasn't all right, wouldn't be all right for some time to come, but Arthur had every faith in the boy and his friends. Together, they would be able to pick up most of the pieces. And if the boys needed some help along the way, Arthur would be there for them for as long as they needed him – and probably beyond that time.

~*~

  
Merlin didn't mention his father again after that day.

~*~

  
On a sunny day in November, Headmaster A. Pendragon received a neatly written letter.

_I lost my father thirteen years ago, it said, but I lost him a second time last night. I apologize for bothering you with my problems; I daren't presume you remember me, but you're the first person I thought of when I saw him again. He ~~died in my arms~~ told me he loved me, and that he was proud of me. And then he died in my arms. I can't recall exactly what you said to me all those years ago, but I know now you were right. I think I knew it then, too, because teachers are all-knowing, aren't they? I must have lost faith over the years. But a little bit of that's been returned to me. I thought you might like to know. I hope you're well, Mr Pendragon. And I wish you all the best._

The letter wasn't signed. But that didn't matter.

Arthur knew exactly who the writer was.


	5. Of Ladders And Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young Merlin, Gwaine, Lancelot, Elyan, Leon and Percival vie for Teacher Arthur's attention. Here be knights, superheroes, ladders, epiphanies and an exasperated teacher who is not fond of his children in the slightest, thank you very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These ficlets will be posted in no particular order. They take place in the same universe and anything you learn will still apply in other chapters, but since the order is not chronological, some events may not yet have happened in future chapters.

Merlin was stuck in a tree.

Merlin was _stuck_ in a tree.

“He’s stuck, Mister–”

“Yes, thank you, Gwaine,” Arthur snapped, running a frustrated hand through his hair. It was only when he met with decidedly more resistance than usual that he realized his fingers were still covered in the green paint of Elyan’s dragon – the one he’d thought would look good on Arthur’s desk, and oi Mister Pendragon, should you be rubbing at that? _You broke Puffy!_

“Where’s Geoffrey?” Arthur lowered his hand. “Elena, see if you can find Mister Origin for me.” She nodded and ran off, blond hair trailing behind her. “And tell him to bring a ladder,” he advised her retreating back.

Someone touched his hand. “How did he get in there?” Will was looking up at Merlin with a mixture of jealousy and awe on his face.

Percival’s blush caught Arthur’s attention. He snapped his head to the side, took in the boy’s downcast eyes, his sheepish expression. “Percival?”

The blush deepened. “I helped.”

“Of course you did.” With a sigh, Arthur turned his attention back to the tree, estimating the distance between the ground and the lowest branch. Frowning slightly, he looked back at Percival. Sure, the boy was big for his age, but even Arthur couldn’t reach the lowest branch. There was no way the boy could have helped Merlin into the tree, not unless Merlin could levitate, and that thought alone was preposterous. No, they’d somehow gotten their hands on the school’s caretaker’s ladder. Arthur was going to have a serious conversation with Geoffrey about locking doors.

And the boys were in trouble. Oh, were they ever.

“You are never going outside again,” Arthur told Merlin loudly, putting one hand on the tree’s bark. “Ever. You’ll be spending the rest of this year’s breaks inside. Perhaps next year’s as well.”

Merlin peeked down at him, his face barely visible through the leaves. “But Arthur–”

“Mister Pendragon.”

“–it wasn’t my fault. Honest. And it wasn’t Percy’s either.”

“Right. Well. Of course.” Arthur shook his head. “I suppose you suddenly found yourself in a tree with no idea as to what happened?”

He couldn’t be certain, but Arthur was fairly sure the dark-haired head bobbed up and down in response to his rhetorical question. Percy, too, was nodding. 

“It’s not okay to lie, Merlin,” Arthur told the tree, no longer craning his neck to look up at his pupil. Looking up made his neck ache.

“But I’m not–”

“That’s enough.” Arthur didn’t want to hear any more silly excuses. “Just make sure you hold on tight until Mister Origin gets here. Sit still, and whatever you do, do not fall down.” 

“Yes, Mister Pendragon.”

The voice sounded so small, so submissive, that for a moment, Arthur wondered whether the boy really was speaking the truth.

“Mister Origin is coming. He’s coming!”

Arthur took in the ladder under the approaching caretaker’s arm, concern making way for relief and annoyance. Of course Merlin wasn’t telling the truth. Children were often convinced they were right – generally believed their own tall tales, especially when other children encouraged those tales. He’d been witness to this process plenty of times. A few children would stick up for their friend, telling them they’d done no wrong at all, and suddenly, the child who’d just confessed to kicking a ball into another child’s face believed he hadn’t come near the ball in the first place. Other people’s influence could be tricky at this age.

For some reason, pushing the image of Uther Pendragon’s disapproving face from his mind was harder than usual today. 

“Yes, thank you,” Arthur said, taking the ladder from Geoffrey, motioning for him to take a step back as he swung the object around, moving it into a vertical position. “Do keep the door to the shed locked from now on, will you?”

“I did,” Geoffrey started, but Arthur cut him off by raising his hand.

“Yes, of course you did. If you wouldn’t mind holding this thing while I climb up?” He put the ladder against the tree, making sure it was secure before tentatively putting his feet on the first rung. 

He was aware of his children’s eyes on him as he climbed up. Gwaine and Leon had come to stand beside Geoffrey, their small fists encircling the ladder’s wooden legs. Arthur wasn’t sure why their presence made him feel safer. Surely their arms weren’t strong enough to support the ladder in the undesirable event something went wrong?

“You can do it, Mister Pendragon,” someone who sounded suspiciously like Elyan cried out. Affirming sounds were made, and Arthur did his best to ignore them, though the corners of his mouth tugged upwards a little.

He could see Merlin more clearly now; the rungs leading him through the branches and leaves and bringing him closer to where the boy was sitting. 

Merlin’s arms were wide open and waiting for him. They slid around Arthur’s neck like it was the most natural thing in the world. Of course the little idiot had let go of the trunk in order to do so – something Arthur specifically ordered him not to. It was a good thing Arthur was up here to help his pupil in case he decided to do more stupid things. Fortunately, Merlin was relatively safe at the moment, his arms wrapped around Arthur’s neck and his legs secure around his waist. Getting down was going to be tricky, though. While Arthur appreciated the boy’s trust in him, he highly doubted he’d be able to make it down the ladder with Merlin in his arms.

Unless . . . 

“Get on my shoulders.” He helped a flailing Merlin onto his shoulders, positioning him so his legs dangled on either side of Arthur’s neck, and put the boy’s hands on his head, pressing down hard for a moment. “Whatever happens, do not let go. Do you understand me?”

He felt rather than saw Merlin nod.

“All right.” Arthur took a deep breath. “Okay. Here we go.”

Merlin’s fingers moved unexpectedly, almost causing Arthur to lose his balance. “ _Mer_ lin.”

Merlin froze. “Sorry.” He was silent for a moment. “There’s something in your hair.”

“What?”

“It’s green.”

“Oh. That.” Arthur moved down a rung, his hands gripping the ladder even tighter. “It’s not permanent, Merlin.”

“What?”

Arthur sighed. “It’s not meant to be green. Now stop talking.”

Mercifully, Merlin did just that.

When Arthur’s feet hit the ground, he swayed a little, the adrenaline leaving his body at full speed. Doom scenarios of Merlin falling down or, worse, Merlin falling down because of something Arthur did had been playing through his mind the entire way down, and now that they were both on the ground again, anger was quick to replace his concern again.

This day was one heck of an emotional roller-coaster.

“If I ever,” he said slowly, making sure to look every single child in the eye before continuing, “see one of you in this tree again, there will be severe consequences.”

It was silent for a moment.

“Am I clear?”

“Yes, Mister Pendragon.”

“Good.” Arthur nodded at Geoffrey. “Thank you for the ladder. Would you mind putting it back where it belongs?” Without waiting for a response, he turned his attention on his children again. “Inside, all of you. You should have been in your seats five minutes ago.”

No one spoke as they made their way back into the building, his grim expression warning them not to open their mouths.

~*~

  
“Mister Pendragon's a hero.”

“He saved Merlin.”

“Saved his life, he did.”

“Yeah.”

“He climbed all the way up.”

“And then boom.”

“Kapow.”

“Whazoooo.”

“And then he saved him.”

“Like Superman.”

“Yes.”

“And Batman.”

“Yeah.”

“And Totally Spies.”

 _“George.”_

“What?”

~*~

  
“I really don’t know how I got in the tree. But I’ll never do it again.”

Arthur sighed, glanced at the clock and put down his pencil. “Merlin, where is your mother?”

Merlin blinked. “Outside?”

“Shouldn’t you be going outside then?”

“But . . .” Merlin bit his lip. “I know you don’t believe me. But it’s true. I didn’t climb up. I didn’t. And I want you to . . . I want you to believe me.”

“Merlin.”

“I want you to trust me.”

Arthur stared at the boy, mouth opening and closing a couple of times before deciding on a compromise, hanging half-open as he stared at his pupil. “I do trust you,” he eventually managed.

“No. You don’t.” Merlin shrugged. “I get it. I’m just a child.”

Arthur shook his head. “You are not just a child, Merlin. You are a child, yes, but no one is _just_ a child. And I do trust you. It’s just that sometimes . . . people lie. Be that purposely or without meaning to.”

Merlin’s eyebrows scrunched together. “I don’t understand.”

“No, you probably don’t.” Arthur sighed. “I believe that you believe you did nothing wrong, Merlin. And that’s enough for now. But I never want you to endanger yourself like that again. Am I clear?”

“Yes.” Merlin was still frowning. “Do you lie, Mister Pendragon?”

Taken aback, Arthur leaned backwards in his seat. “Right now, you mean?”

“No.” Merlin’s stared at him, blue eyes wide and unblinking. “Just . . . sometimes.”

“Huh.” Arthur had half a mind to throw Merlin out of his classroom, the way he usually dealt with Morgana when she started prying into matters that didn’t concern her. “Yeah, I guess I . . .” He stopped talking abruptly, mentally kicking himself. He was Merlin’s teacher; how could the boy think of trusting him if Arthur told him he lied occasionally?

Except, if he told Merlin he never lied, then that would be a lie as well, wouldn’t it?

“Everyone lies at times,” he said slowly, “to protect themselves. Or others.” He thought of Morgause’s words. Of Tristan’s. Of the lies of all those people who tried to keep other people safe, offering sanctuary, getting the soldiers off their back. “It’s generally frowned upon.”

“Yes,” Merlin said. “Yes, you frown a lot.”

Arthur laughed at that. “I’ve had a lot of practice. Listen, Merlin.” He closed the file on his desk, covering the letter he’d been writing to Vivian’s father. “I think your mom’s getting impatient outside. Why don’t you go tell her all about your adventures today?”

Merlin wrinkled his nose. “I shouldn’t. She’ll worry.”

“Rightly so.” Arthur shook his head, remembered the feeling of panic spreading through his chest. “And you definitely should. What did I just tell you about lying, Merlin?”

“I won’t lie to her. Just . . . not tell her everything,” Merlin said slowly.

Arthur fought back a smile. The boy was smart. Too smart for his own good. “Some people consider withholding information a lie as well.”

Merlin took a step back. “I should go.”

“Yes. Yes, you should.” Arthur gestured at the clock. “Your mother’s waiting for you.”

Merlin took another step backwards. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He raised his hand, waving it around a little.

Arthur stared at it, then raised his own. “Yes, you will.” He nodded in the direction of the door. “Now run along.”

Merlin was about to walk out of the classroom when something made him stop and turn around. “Mister Pendragon?”

“Yes, Merlin?” He didn’t sound exasperated. Did he?

“Thank you for saving me.”

“Yes. Well.” Arthur found it hard to look at Merlin suddenly, diverted his gaze instead. “You’re welcome.” If Merlin were an adult, he’d tell him he owed him one – that it was Merlin’s turn to save Arthur’s life now. But he wasn’t sure Merlin would get the joke, and the thought of Merlin taking him seriously scared him more than he cared to admit, even to himself.

He didn’t look up until after Merlin had left the room. And when he did, he could still feel the boy’s eyes on him, silently studying him, taking him in.

Shaking his head, Arthur re-opened his file and stared at the words he’d written. They felt alien to him now. Untrue. Keeping his words to Merlin in mind, he crumbled the letter into a little ball and reached for a new sheet. 

Perhaps Vivian’s parents deserved to know their child was not a narcissist, not yet, but that she was well on her way to becoming one if they did not stop spoiling her the way they did. He hadn’t meant to lie to them, merely hadn’t considered the issue big enough to mention it before, but all big problems started out small, and if honesty could lead to fewer problems in the future, who was he to judge which issues should be raised and which shouldn’t? 

Teaching was a funny experience, Arthur thought as he rephrased himself, the tip of his pen briskly moving over the sheet in front of him. He’d always thought he was here to teach the children all he knew, but perhaps there were things he could teach himself as well.

Things his children could teach him.

That thought ought to be frightening, would have been exactly that at some point in his life, but at the moment, right here and now, Arthur was pleased to discover he could feel reassurance washing over him in waves, calming him, soothing his restless mind.


End file.
